


Great Expectations

by ButterflyCobra



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 20:19:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4493337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyCobra/pseuds/ButterflyCobra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I saw tail lights last night in a dream about my old life; everybody leaves and why, why wouldn't you?</p>
<p>Collection of Olicity oneshots to ease my way back into writing.</p>
<p>1. Home</p>
            </blockquote>





	Great Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first writing adventure in the Arrow fandom. It has been quite a number of years since I have worked on anything, and I am hoping this wonderful couple gives me motivation to start writing again.

“What about this one?”

“Mmmm, I think the kitchen is a little small,” Felicity replies as she turns to look at him, dragging her hand along the edge of the counter in the first house on their list.

“But you even don’t like to cook,” Oliver helpfully supplies, closing the door to the pantry he had been investigating.

“No, but I need somewhere to sit while I watch you cook,” she smiles up at him as she wraps her arms around his shoulders. “We need a kitchen with an island. I do like the backyard here, though.”

She still has a hard time believing they are actually standing here, discussing something as serious as buying a house together, as if it wasn’t a huge step forward in their relationship. She was not one of those little girls who had imagined her dream house with a fancy white picket fence and crisp blue shutters. Once her father walked out the door, Felicity became much more careful and realistic about her dreams for the future. She did not willingly want to set herself up for disappointment and tried to keep her ideas a little more vague.

All of that went right out the window when she met Oliver Queen and was no longer able to maintain her cautious outlook for the future. Soon she found herself imagining pretty white dresses and clumsy toddlers with dirty blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes. A tiny part of herself that she pretends she cannot hear still waits for something horrible to happen and he will decide it isn’t worth it to stick around if she will be in danger.

He brushes her hair behind her ear and cups her cheek to pull her attention back to him. “I always wanted a tire swing.”

“What?”

“When I was growing up, I begged my mother for a tire swing. She didn’t think it would fit in with the rest of the landscaping so my parents never put one in. I want a big tree in our backyard so our kids can have a tire swing. Or a jungle gym or some other kind of age appropriate toy.”

“You want kids?” She whispers, almost afraid to hear his answer. She felt a bubble of hope well deep within her when he mentioned their children. For all the time they had spent learning about one another the last few months, they had never broached this topic.

He gives her a soft look and leans his forehead on hers. “Yes, I want kids with you, Felicity. I want everything with you.”

She closes her eyes for a moment and takes a breath, trying to memorize this moment. She doesn’t ever want to forget the way she feels right now and the enormous amount of love she has for this man. His ability to quiet her fears without her finding the courage to voice them would never cease to amaze her.

She finally feels safe enough to put her dreams into actual words instead of keeping them quiet, afraid to lose something she always tried to pretend she didn’t want as much as she truly did. “I always wanted a sprinkler to run through. We didn’t have a yard growing up, so I had to settle for the public pool. I want our kids to have room to play in a sprinkler.”

“Alright, so we need a bigger kitchen and a backyard big enough for a tire swing and a sprinkler. Do you think three bedrooms will be enough, or should I tell the realtor we need something bigger?”

“I think three will be perfect,” she says, unable to stop what she can only assume is a terribly goofy grin from spreading, but she is just so unbelievably happy with him.

A matching expression flits across his face, and he pulls her hand from his neck, tugging her towards the front entrance of the house where their realtor waits, excited to share the newest additions to their wish list.


End file.
